Tidal Pull
by respite2
Summary: An aspiring space ranger is rescued from an icy death by an unknown life form.
1. Chapter 1

The bio-suit had not been refueled. Once the last of the fuel from the previous trip was depleted, there would be nothing to insulate him from this planet's sharp and inescapable cold. It did not even matter that the planet's atmosphere was poisonous, because he would freeze into a solid block before he could even take a full breath. The holographic display, the readings telling him that an icy, solitary death was less than two Earthian hours away, they made him so, _so_ _angry_.

All that planning. All that training. All that running around on the astro belt under commanders whose names were not worth remembering. It was all a waste, because someone, some amoeba of grunt pilot, had failed the most basic of orders: always refuel after an excursion. They had doomed him to a humiliation of a first-and-last mission. Because he should have known better than to expect anything else but incompetence from the others, there was a tiny pang of self blame in his gut. He should have double checked. He should have prepared his own suit, his own supplies, and his own weapon. It took all of his of self-discipline to stop from smashing both of his fists into the ground, from thrashing around like a raging boar. He settled on kicking the empty landing pod he'd crawled out of moments ago. It made an unsatisfactory thump.

His options were non-existent. There was no way to contact his envoy. He'd been snuck away in a suit, ensignia scrubbed, with communication capabilities temporarily severed. It had been crucial that no one know when or where he'd gone for the next three rotations, as long as the fuel should have lasted. Communication would not be re-established with the higher ups for another six hours, when the likelihood of discovery lessened. He'd been warned of the risk level, but no one expected immediate failure.

This had been his long awaited chance to rise into the true high ranks. He'd been tasked with tracking the remnants of an insurgent group from a planetoid outside the League's jurisdiction. Officially, they had no authority to interfere, their own people's government should resolve the issue. But the League would do what it willed by its own authority. Not that the League was even a governing body, they were pseudo-militaristic association which dispensed their service for _justice. _All with the friendly and flashy veneer of heroism. They called no planet their home, and welcomed anyone from all planets. He'd heard that line as a kid back on the Mars colony, from the Captain himself during the War's End festival. He had known immediately that the League was the key to his future.

He wanted the League's acknowledgment and he got it. So before death could stop him, by all the Universe, he would find a way make the League succeed. If I'm going to fucking _die_ on this shit planet, he thought, it won't be lying down. It pissed him off, but someone would come looking for his body. He'd leave behind as much info as he could.

There was little recorded information on this planet. They knew it as a lonely husk orbiting a long ago dead star. At most he was sure that the atmosphere was unfriendly to any known life forms without a bio-suit equivalent. The poison could possibly be metabolized by some known species, but this cold could only be survived by microbes. It stood to reason then, he thought, that the thing poking its head out from behind that plum colored boulder was not any sort of known life form. This thing, humanoid by what he could see, was not wearing anything which looked like it could protect from the planet's cold, yet it bobbed out and behind that rock unhindered.

It noticed him noticing him. It smiled, revealing rows of sharp teeth. On its head were two slate grey horns. Its hair, what he assumed was hair, was bright red and spiked. Its tail waved behind him, long and pointed. Bakugou began to record it. When he didn't respond, it began to almost hop, moving around excitedly, shouting something in a language he couldn't hope to place. The bio-suit returned nothing from its index.

The spiky thing then began making tentative steps towards him. It made exaggerated gestures and expressions, obviously trying to appear non-threatening. It stopped when Bakugou raised his arms in a ready stance.

He activated his mouthpiece.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?"

The spiky thing paused, made a loud clicking sound with his mouth, then spoke.

"Hello! I'm Kirishima! I've been stranded here for several rotations. My ship is grounded and most of my controls wrecked. I could really use a ride. Where's your ship?"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed.

"Aren't you cold?"

Kirishima glanced around, as if completely unaware of their frozen surroundings until Bakugou brought it up.

"Don't worry about me!" He placed his hands on his hips, chest puffed. "I'm basically indestructible."

"I wasn't worried about you, dumbass." He really wasn't.

Kirishima nodded. "Well, anyway...can I have a ride?"

Bakugou stared at him a second, fully aware of his time limit. This is what the Universe sent him as a salvation.

"Listen up. If I don't get a tank of Zynth fuel or into an insulated oxygenated space, neither of us will be getting off this planet."

Kirishima was having trouble processing this, so Bakugou tried to be clearer.

"Hey, dumbass! I'm about to become a frozen corpse! Get me somewhere safe or I'm using my last breath to beat you to death."

That did it.

"Shit, okay. Follow me."

—

Kirishima's ship could hardly be called that, at least by Bakugou's standards. Clearly the crash landing had done extensive damage to the outer shell. The red coating had been scraped, most of the bubble lettering on the side could no longer be read. Bakugou could barely make out an "F" and a "T". The inside was mostly intact. It was roughly the size of a public bus back at the colonies, and was furnished like someone's dorm room. But it was warm there, and confirmed safe to breathe in. He had triple checked before removing his helmet.

Bakugou was grateful, though not about to show it. After all, Kirishima didn't even have the right type of fuel on board. So he failed to thank Kirishima for the warm drink, and even insulted his choice of decor for good measure. But he still drained the cup and didn't refuse a refill.

Kirishima seemed happy enough to play host. He prepared more for them to drink. He tried to start a conversation, attempting to set them both at ease.

"I was on my way to meet some friends before coming down. There's not anything about this planet on the mapping apps so I thought, you know, take a quick look. Pick up a cool rock."

Bakugou reclined deep into cushions of the oversized chair he'd taken over. "That's astoundingly stupid of you." It _was_ stupid. Landing on an unknown planet on a whim was all kinds of stupid. Landing here even with support turned out to be stupid, too.

Kirishima sidestepped the comment. "I've travelled to hundreds of planets. It's good to have souvenirs to remember them by." A half smile hinted at more behind that statement.

Bakugou grunted. He'd done plenty of planetary travel at this point, but couldn't relate. That sort of sentimentality was annoying anyway.

"You running away from something?"

There was a fraction of a second where Kirishima hesitated. He tried to cover it up by grabbing the pot on the hot plate. "Well, not really." He filled Bakugou's cup, eyes concentrated on his pouring. "My people are travelers by nature. Some of us do our own thing. Some of us move in small colonies." He filled and sipped from his own cup before sitting on a stool across from Bakugou. "Exploring unknown planets, fighting whatever comes your way. Being a lone ranger floating out in the universe...it's pretty cool, right?" He threw him a subdued smile.

Bakugou couldn't answer. He'd been aiming for a similar life. Joining the League was meant to give him the training and license to be a lone ranger of sorts. He'd wanted to stand above the Captain, force everyone to acknowledge his talent and respect him. He had zero intention of inheriting the army of League subordinates. What mattered was gaining the power and freedom to be on his own. And here Kirishima had circumvented all the work he'd put in because that's just how people like him lived. Travel clearances and dangers unknown didn't stop him. Who knew how he'd even enter Leagues' (unofficial) sphere without detection.

"It's alright."

Kirishima gave a quiet laugh. It was difficult to see him as a threat, even with the teeth.

Bakugou sighed.

"What is it?" Kirishima looked genuinely concerned.

"I'm probably making a mistake, but I've decided you're telling the truth." At least for the most part, he thought.

Kirishima hummed in response. "So you've figured out what an awesome guy I am."

He received a dirty look. The tiny ship too quickly filled with a nervous silence.

Kirishima pushed again. "So...will you tell me your name?"

Bakugou only stared at him from behind his cup.

"_A_ name?"

"It's Kujo."

"Alright, Kujo. So how did you end up here?"

What he wanted to say was, "None of your fucking business." He might have let that slip had he not learned to curve that explosive temperament of his by now. He went with a simple story. "I was supposed to be looking for xanyr ore deposits. Dumbass crew must have fucked up more than my landing because they disappeared."

"They just floated off? You're pretty lucky I was around. I mean, not like you'll find many people around here." Bakugou could only narrow his eyes at him.

"We've got supplies for a good few more rotations. But we should be trying to find a way out of here. You think your crew will come looking for you?"

"No idea. Communication was totally cut when the suit began to malfunction. I just need some time to fix it."

Kirishima perked up at that bit of information. "Yeah? So you might be able to call someone? That'll be great!"

—

He'd removed the suit and had it rigged on the drying hanger over the green patch, a special mat used to salvage water. It was super low tech and from a few generations ago. Everyone used the much more efficient dehydration units now. The ship was so old he wondered how it even managed to even crash and not disintegrate on entry.

There was nothing actually wrong with the suit's functions, so he did basic cleaning and maintenance for the sake of his lie. He positioned himself and the suit so Kirishima could not see him work directly. Not that Kirishima tried. Instead he had reclaimed his chair, eating from what looked like a shiny MRE pack full of something purple.

He passively watched as Bakugou fiddled with the helmet. "I'm pretty sure you're a Human. Earthian?"

Bakugou grunted. He was Martian, but having been in the League a few years now, it didn't matter. "Yeah." He'd learned to let people chatter on if it kept them from prying too deep.

Kirishima took another spoon full. "I find your kind _everywhere_. You all must like exploring as much as my kind do."

Bakugou remembered the clicking sound Kirishima had made earlier. "Your kind, what do they use to communicate with other species?"

He hummed, seemingly happy to be asked. "It's not any special tech. It's like, once one of us learns a language, it's passed on to the next generation. I just need to remember it. With so many of you running around, of course I've got the Human Standard already in there." He tapped his forehead.

"All those languages in there must have eaten up all your good sense."

He received a rather toothy grin in response. "All that rudeness must've eaten yours. Stop trying to fight the guy who saved you, _Kujo_."

They fell back into a momentary silence. Bakugou could only pretend to fix the suit for so long. It was time for a break. Kirishima got up to hand him a tube of something pink.

"It came from a Human, so it's probably okay for you."

Bakugou took it, mostly sure he meant a Human supplied it and not that it was produced _from_ a Human.

The next couple of hours were filled with more of Kirishima's chatter. He told Bakugou about the many places he'd been. Planets, countries, provinces, cities, small towns. He remembered all of them, even some he hadn't physically visited himself. Those memories had been stored in his DNA by his parents and their parents and so on. Inscribed memories weren't like normal memories, he explained, they were a sort of instinctual familiarity. It was tied to his language recall as well "other things," which Bakugou didn't really follow.

Bakugou listened without comment. He was a little surprised that he found Kirishima only a minor annoyance.

Close to his expected contact time, Bakugou miraculously "fixed" the helmet. He put it on just as a voice came through.

"Come in." It was a low, calm voice only Bakugou could hear.

"I'm a stranded mining agent. My crew experienced trouble during my survey. I'm low on Zynth fuel and in need of resupply." He paused. "...I've also got a stranded tourist with a grounded ship. Most functions are disabled. I'm sending coordinates now."

There were bits of code in there. Someone is listening. Just a nobody who needs rescue.

Kirishima nudged him."I need a replacement drive for a Zephyr 280 Wide. Red if they have it."

Bakugou pushed him away with one hand.

"Okay, okay. Just the ride then."

"Shut the fuck _up_. Let me hear."

The voice came back on. "We can send a resupply tomorrow at the same time. Entry is impossible." They were being careful. That was expected now that they knew some unknown person was there.

Even so, he felt some of the tension loosen just a bit. They had an emergency resupply ready.

"Understood."

Communicated went down again. He removed the helmet, placing it back on the end table he'd borrowed.

Kirishima looked at him expectantly.

"So? Who'd you contact? Why didn't you ask for a lift?"

"They were just a small delivery ship passing by. They can't take on anyone, but they're sending some supplies."

Kirishima groaned. "You could've still asked them to send someone."

Bakugou scoffed. "I didn't have to ask. They offered to send help." A paid ship was planned to arrive in three rotations. A whole rescue had already been planned for Kujo. It wouldn't be any harder to bring Kirishima along, too.

"You should've said that sooner!" Kirishima turned away and threw his arms up in the air. "Can't wait to eat some actual food."

Bakugou removed his helmet. He had little choice but to rest for now. Tomorrow the mission would go on.


	2. Chapter 2

The planet's sun, just an ember, had been glowing steady and low for billions of years. In those billions of years not once had any intelligent life sprouted in or near the planet's lonely terrain. But there were microbes, little creatures that ate up leftover radiation from that long ago when the sun had burned so bright and hot that it swallowed up its original system. For now though, it's only intelligent inhabitants were alien.

The planet was cold, the sun's rays too gentle to cut through the planet's perpetual haze. Whether day or night the world was dim. Yet at sunrise the world did shine a little brighter when the many ice crystals on the surface refracted the early morning light.

This was something Bakugou knew, because Kirishima had told him. He told him lots of things, whether Bakugou acknowledged his words or not.

While he himself could not leave the tiny ship without his resupply, his host was free to explore, his body able to withstand the cold and toxic atmosphere with minor protection. The only extra items he carried were a head light and canteen clipped to the belt of his pants. He needed them during the difficult hours when trekking deep into the region, filling his time with exploration. No matter how far or how long he walked, there were no other visitors to be found, until Bakugou's entry pod crashed.

Bakugou assumed this isolation was the reason he was now on the receiving end of a nonstop verbal onslaught. Despite his best efforts, Kirishima would not _shut the fuck up. _He talked endlessly about anything and everything. A musical festival on an asteroid that came once a millennia. A food stand on an full aquatic planet that served the best dessert. Amusing jokes he heard from elder of a small municipality on a planet where the inhabitants spoke like hiccuping bagpipes. Bakugou didn't even ask how he knew about bagpipes. He tried to only to gather basic information about the landing site, quickly learning that there wasn't much to learn at all.

He also, regrettably, accidentally encouraged Kirishima to share further. In fact, Kirishima didn't stop talking until Bakugou grabbed him by the jaw, and threatened a sound pummeling if he didn't let him sleep. Kirishima seemed to take a moment, weighing the options. If it came down to it, Bakugou knew his suit wouldn't stand up to Kirishima's strength. It took the more believable threat of setting aflame his tacky print bed sheets to settle the matter.

In the end Bakugou went to bed according to schedule. He'd considered matching Kirishima's sleep pattern, paranoid of presenting himself as easy target, but Kirishima had an internal clock which was difficult to match. He seemed to need very little sleep to function. It unnerved him that a unknown person was up and about while he slept, but there was little he could do about that or anything else.

Several hours later, after an uneasy sleep, Bakugou was wide awake. Alone.

He was wrapped neatly in a not-too-tacky heavy blanket, still in the chair he'd claimed for himself the night before. Kirishima had left at some point during his sleep. Probably to avoid waking him and triggering the destruction of his carefully curated home decor. It was a chance to search the ship for anything suspicious. A welcomed break from the idleness, if nothing else.

He kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. If Kirishima walked in on him, he could at least block his hands from view. It wouldn't do to get himself thrown out to his death. Though he had a feeling that wasn't likely.

The ship was like a shoebox apartment. There was a service corner, where the machinery for minor meal prep, water purifier, and the water collecting mat with shower tube were located. They were all outdated models with obvious DIY minor repairs and updates. He had a quick look, checking the supply cabinets, but he only found MRE packs, a few bottles of soap, and the two mugs they used before.

In the opposite corner was a small closet like room, which housed the smallest possible half-bath. There was nothing hidden inside as far as he could tell. Near the third corner was a narrow bed with the tacky print bedsheets. The sleeping area was basically just the bed. Above it on the metal wall was novelty clock that looked like something from a carnival booth. There was also a small shelf with a few stones and a photo card of Kirishima and half a dozen others in a crowded shot. He noticed one person in particular, a very pink being with black eyes. Bakugou vaguely wondered if they were of the same type because of the tiny horns.

Apart from the middle where the small table and couch sat, the rest of the ship was crammed with the actual navigation and environment sustaining machinery. The machinery would have looked out of place if it weren't camouflaged under half a dozen posters. He didn't recognize most of the scripts, they were not only not-Human, but probably from places outside the League's circle. However, one poster stood out. A poster with waves and big red characters. It was in his grandparents' Earth language, Japanese. He couldn't read it, but it felt familiar.

He made a small effort to look over the machines, not really expecting anything. Most of the functionality was lost during Kirishima's crash. He'd somehow kept the life sustaining parts going. Any chances of accessing travel or communication logs were unlikely. An old system like this wouldn't be trusted to store important data. It was probably only used to amplify the signal on a Com-Device. Any worthwhile communication logs would be on Kirishima's personal Com, on his person.

As far as he could tell, there was nothing physically tying the ship or the owner to his targets. It was a boring result and not an unexpected one. He grabbed his helmet off the table, but didn't put it on. With nothing else to do he settled back into his chair, wrapping himself in his blanket.

It was almost a relief when he heard airlocks opening. Kirishima walked in, his head wrapped in a cloth meant to keep the hair away from his face. With a wide grin, he tossed something small and dark to Bakugou's lap.

"A souvenir."

Bakugou narrowed his eyes at the item a second before picking it up with his left hand.

"Xanyr."

He gave the chunk of ore a light squeeze. It stained his gloves with an iridescent black film, like oil puddles in sunlight.

Kirishima walked in closer, still smiling. "I remembered finding some like five rotations ago. That's what you're here for, right?" His eyes squinted slightly with amusement. The ore was rare enough that mining scouts expected to go home empty handed after most excursions. That the ore could actually be mined in such a desolate region, in such an out of the way planet was a funny coincidence. Or at least Kirishima thought so.

Bakugou said nothing, forcing his mouth clamped shut. Rising quickly, he threw the blanket off onto the floor. Kirishima made like he was going to move, but Bakugou motioned for him to stop. Though he kept himself from shouting, his expression said plenty.

Kirishima took a step back, his smile now a little nervous. "Hey, just thought I'd help..."

This only annoyed Bakugou further. He stared at him, fuming, but said nothing still. Instead, he removed something from his belt, a small lightweight bag. He pulled it open and placed the xanyr inside, then snapped the bag on to the belt.

Kirishima opened and closed his mouth, obviously unsure of what to say. Finally, he broke the silence. "So, er, I'll show you where I found it tomorrow?"

Bakugou crosses his arms. "You'll show me tonight."

"Yeah, okay," was his reply.

Bakugou then went and grabbed his helmet off the floor, not completely un-embarrassed at having accidentally flung it across the room when he took off the blanket.

—

When Kirishima returned to the ship for a second time that same rotation, he brought back a nondescript navy blue sack. The promised resupply. Included were some generic MRE packs, water, and a basic first aid kit. He placed the sack on the table, pushing aside mugs from an earlier meal.

Immediately seizing the fuel canisters, Bakugou was too focused to notice Kirishima pulling something from his pocket. He opened the small valve on his right hip, and attached the fuel canister. The helmet also needed to be taken care of, but it's back-up battery was still half charged. He looked up as he waited for the fuel to be absorbed. In front of him Kirishima held something shiny in front of his face. It was a pair of of chocolate bars. Of all the Human consumables to be shared with the myriad of intelligent life out in the Universe, chocolate might have been the most universally favored. Maybe it was a genuine gift from a captain, or maybe a token meant to be traded. He didn't know, but Bakugou grunted and waved it away dismissively.

Kirishima quickly opened one and took a large bite, thanking him profusely as he did so. He also pulled out a card, and placed it on the table.

"It's a note. It confirms that a rescue ship was contacted. They'll be here when the dust clears enough for landing." He ate the remaining half of the chocolate, looking pleased.

"I should've checked that when I landed. I get over eager sometimes."

Bakugou gave him a look without comment. A light on the right cuff let him know the suit was ready. He turned away from Kirishima again, and attached the canister to the helmet through a smaller, hidden valve.

Kirishima began to say something, probably to ask about the helmet, but Bakugou wouldn't let him. Instead he walked off to a corner and began to do a set of stretches.

"How far is it?" He asked aloud without looking.

Kirishima picked up the used mugs from the table, bringing them to the sink. "It won't take more than half an hour to walk there."

Might as well be an eternity, Bakugou thought.

Kirishima picked up and empty canister, pretending to look over the label. "What do you want that stuff for anyway? I mean… you know… you could just _go._"

They both knew Bakugou, _Kujo, _wasn't a mining agent. They both knew the ore wasn't his goal. And they both also knew there wasn't anything stopping Bakugou from simply walking off with all his secrets intact. Kirishima couldn't guess the reason he needed to know where the ore came from and he also couldn't ignore his curiosity.

There was a real reason. It was Bakugou's only lead. If Kirishima's endless talk was to be believed, the xanyr ore was the only worthwhile resource for kilometers. If his targets really landed nearby, it seemed possible they would want the ore to fund further plans. It may even be why they had a base on this site to begin with. It was something.

Explaining that was impossible, of course. So Bakugou finished stretching and said, "For money."

Kirishima didn't ask again.

Ten minutes later, they were ready.

And as Kirishima reached for the airlock handle, the ship began to quake. ️

—

He was back on his feet in a second. The ship had shaken so violently and suddenly, neither had managed to avoid the floor. Which was now slanted, the ship at and angle. A handful of loose items which had fallen during the upset slid towards the dip. The ship was still creaking when a sudden lurch tipped the the ship back into its rut. Kirishima reacted quicker this time, attempting to grab Bakugou's arm to stop him from toppling over. His hand was quickly smacked away as Bakugou used the closest wall for support instead.

There was a long second as both men waited for another quake. Bakugou filled it with a string of profanity. For all he knew he could have been spared a quick death the night before just to die now in some random guy's shitty space trailer. He cursed the Universe for putting him at the center of the most unfunny joke.

He took a solid step towards the door, fed up with the anxious seconds of waiting. There was a slight creaking sound, then nothing. They both took that as a free and clear sign to scramble out of the ship before another surprise overtook them.

Their frantic exit was met with further silence. They cautiously checked the side of the ship, finding nothing.

Kirishima pointed it out first. "Something's _underneath." _

As if on queue, the ship began to shake again, though not as violently as before. In a few seconds, they could see something moving around near the edges. Its small claws were visibly digging, but no face could be made out in the dark under the ship.

Bakugou stepped back, and aimed his plasma gun near the hole. The red glow prominent, hardly dampened by the haze. He activated his mic, shouting, demanding the digger to show its face.

The scratching stopped, but nothing poked out, or said a word. Instead the pause was followed by the tremendous noise of the ship toppling over to its side, into a jagged collection of large stones. Whatever structural integrity that survived the crash was lost. Bakugou felt lucky to have survived the night in it.

Kirishima pulled Bakugou back. While Bakugou yelled at him not to interfere Kirishima stared at the ship with near agony. "That was a _present._ What am I supposed to say to my mentor next visit?"

"Thanks for the shitty gift?"

Kirishima ignored him. "It has _sentimental value_."

Bakugou wanted to say something, about the ship having already fulfilled its purpose as a crash landing hunk of junk, when a figure, a still indecipherable shadow, peeked out from the dust.

Bakugou aimed his plasma gun again, eliciting a set of high pitched squeals. He recognized the voices. The League had played audio recordings of them before his departure. He tried to aim at the source, but could only make out a single shadow scurrying down into the hole.

"Get back here," his voice was sharp, even through the mic. He ran forward, eager to finish the mission there. Ignoring Kirishima's shouts, he leapt into the tunnel


	3. Chapter 3

He chased the shadow for almost an hour. A long time to be making his way through an alien underground tunnel. His helmet allowed him to see in the dark, but the space was cramped, forcing him to crouch slightly as he ran. It slowed him down considerably, especially when the tunnel gradually became rough with dark stones speckling the walls. He'd easily lost sight of the target. When the tunnel began to widen, he expected to face his attacker at the opening, ready to ambush him. Instead, he found a group of four individuals, huddling across from him at the other end of a small cavern.

His immediate thought was that they looked like overgrown Earth moles in children's spacesuits. The planetoid from which they had escaped was a relatively new population. Only 70 years of established government. He knew intelligent life, people, from all corners of the Universe had come to settle, but he'd never seen anyone resembling an Earth animal before. The pictures shared with him by the League, taken in the dark at a great distance, didn't even hint at it. The moles' ability to hide underground had kept their appearance nearly unknown until now.

One of the moles ventured a peek at him, then another, then two more. Their attention was focused, small black eyes staring up at him, snouts twitching. Their faces never changed, there was no point in searching for familiar expression. But when one let out a high pitched whine, Bakugou knew they they were honestly afraid. Afraid of him. This isn't a ruse, he thought. This isn't an ambush.

He didn't lower his weapon, unwilling to leave himself open to attack. But there wasn't a follow up action. This scenario was completely unexpected. These four had organized domestic acts of terrorism, killing more than a few on various territories on their home planetoid. Their actions and rhetoric gave the impression that they were fully committed to their pursuit of power. He'd expected a display of something more like self-assured conceit, or the opposite, a show of nauseating cowardice once confronted with consequences. What was happening now more resembled a group of helpless children threatened by a terrible villain. They seemed not to understand the situation, apart from the fact that he was aiming a plasma weapon right at them.

"Enoughof this bullshit! At least face me head-on, bastards!"

They squeaked, even more frightened. They didn't try to argue. They didn't speak at all. He knew for a fact they spoke the Human Standard. So why not try to persuade him?

Bakugou could feel his conviction wavering.

As he stood there, unable to choose a course of action, Kirishima managed to catch up. The beam from his head light announced his arrival, bouncing off the shiny stones embedded in the cavern walls. Kirishima walked up from behind him, reaching out, gently pushing his arm down. He took a firm grip on his shoulder, probably, he felt, as a precaution against his temper. Bakugou noticed that his hand was covered in dust and streaks of black.

"Do you know what they're saying?" He spoke steady and low. "They're scared. They don't know what's happening."

Bakugou ground his teeth, but couldn't think of a reply.

"Look, I don't understand their language very well, but I have to try. Just...give me some time to figure this out."

He shook off his hand. "Do whatever you want."

He pretended he wasn't relieved.

—

Bakugou stood glaring as Kirishima tried to calm the group. They argued in high pitched squeals, occasionally making sluggish accusatory motions towards him. There was no way for him to understand what they were saying, but he could guess.

After a while, Kirishima excused himself to tell Bakugou what he'd learned.

"It's like they have amnesia. They're not even sure why they're here."

"How convenient."

Kirishima frowned, looking concerned.

"I don't think they're lying. They said they feel like there's something making their mind fuzzy. They remember leaving a ship, walking out here, then...their memories and strength seemed to like...sway and slip out of their bodies." He motioned with his hands at that last part, spreading his palm and fingers open and making waves in the air, trying to visually impress something lost in the translation.

Bakugou scoffed. He was starting to think that these moles were just trying to trick Kirishima into being their bodyguard.

"That's such bullshit. If they're so weak and helpless how did they dig up the rock? Flip over your shitty trailer?"

Kirishima looked away a moment, thinking. "I'm not sure, but they're not faking it now. Look at them. Also, it wasn't a shitty trailer."

"You don't know that. You don't even know what you're getting in the middle of."

Kirishima looked him, then sighed, "But _you_ know."

For the first time Bakugou felt that Kirishima was actually annoyed with him.

He didn't care. He had something more important hanging over him at the moment. "They're just a bunch of assholes who attacked us."

Kirishima didn't bother to press for any more information. He just rolled his eyes. It pissed him off.

The mole men began to whine again then, a heavy and labored sound.

Aggravated by the sound, Bakugou stomped towards the group. It was difficult with Kirishima gripping his arm, trying to stop him.

"You can't just attack a bunch of confused old people!"

"Mind your own business!"

He tried to shake the other off, but the moles self-appointed protector had the upper hand in strength. They struggled, Kirishima alternating between grabbing Bakugou's left and right arms and Bakugou resorting to trying to kick him off with his leg. He managed to get good enough leverage, nearly prying him off, when Kirishima let go, causing him to stagger. He changed tactics. Instead of pulling, he grabbed Bakugou's middle and lifted him off the ground, then over his head.

"You _need _to think about this!"

"I am going to fucking _murder _you!" He struggled, attempting to kick his way loose.

"No one's going to murder anybody. You're so dramatic."

While Bakugou threw a tantrum over Kirishima's head, the mole men grew quiet. They slumped into one another, propping each other up.

Bakugou noticed, and finally calmed. He needed a closer look.

"Put me down."

Kirishima complied.

He approached them again, without a weapon this time. The group let out a quiet sigh, though they seemed unaware of him.

He glanced around the cavern, taking greater notice of the walls. Where Kirishima's light shown, dark iridescent stones embedded into the walls would glitter. It was the Xanyr ore.

He reached for the pouch holding the piece Kirishima had given him hours earlier. He took the ore, and brought it to one of the mole's snout. The mole turned away, his eyes watering.

"For fuck's sake. What complete fucking morons."

He put the ore back into his pouch, and unwound a thin wire rope from his belt.

—

Bakugou had wanted to keep them in the cavern. The place was just a crude base, but that was more than they had above ground. He didn't care how sick it made the moles as they had literally dug themselves into that mess. They were also criminals. It was Kirishima's persistence that forced a compromise. They would make a base in the tunnel, at the midpoint between the exit near the ship and the cavern. There the moles would remain weakened though no longer deathly ill. It seemed the xanyr's effects declined somewhat quickly with distance. Kirishima alone hollowed out more space so the six of them could sit or stand more comfortably. Bakugou might've been impressed if he hadn't looked completely ridiculous doing it. He was left covered in black dust.

The compromise did away with any lingering belief Bakugou could complete his mission. There would be consequences when the ship arrived. Until then he didn't want Kirishima clucking at him about violating the natural rights of helpless old men. That's what he told himself when he sat next Kirishima, ready to break his promises to the League.

Kirishima didn't say anything when Bakugou began to talk. He shared only the most basic of information. His working for the League, his mission. He explained about the moles, who they were, what they'd done. Casually left out were the League's explicit, treaty violating orders to execute the group. He didn't know how he'd react to that.

Finding Kirishima's quiet contemplation uncomfortable, Bakugou nudged him with a soft kick to his side.

Kirishima crossed his arms and spoke. "Well… we have them trapped now. You don't have to fight them anymore." He gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "Everything worked out."

That had a greater impact than he'd anticipated. It felt like something was crawling in his stomach. It was dread. It was frustration. The League wouldn't congratulate him when the ship came.

Kirishima noticed, misunderstanding the cause. "Hey, don't worry. If they do escape I'll make sure to fight them back. I have your back."

Bakugou didn't even care that Kirishima insinuated he needed help in combat. He was too tired. It was time to sleep and forget for a few hours.

—

His second morning on the planet was the most difficult. He lacked the good fortune of couch and shower this time around. They also lacked food. Though the bio-suit could help stave off the worst of hunger, he still preferred something rather than nothing in his stomach. Kirishima had gone back the ship at one point, but not any supplies survived direct exposure to the atmosphere. He was forced to share one of his personal MRE packs with Kirishima as he'd given the three he'd found to the moles. Bakugou hoped they'd be allergic to that, too.

Kirishima was in relatively high spirits. The rescue ship was expected to arrive near the end of the rotation. He was ready to leave behind this lonely, dusty planet and enter a League ship for the first time. He wondered if the experience would be similar to a vague memory imprint of a League ship he inherited from his mother. Kirishima told him about it as they kept watch over the moles, making sure they didn't try to move further away.

"I remember the sound of chattering, lots of people talking in different languages. Most of them Human. There was also this smell, like ozone. And there was a sign with three letters: A. R. U."

"Alien Relocation Unit." It was a small branch unique to Earth.

"Yeah, she lived on Earth with a Human for a while. She didn't have any official clearance and got found out."

He thought back the poster of waves in the ship. It was probably in tatters now. "Where'd she live?"

"Japan. That's where my name comes from. Eijiro Kirishima."

Without thinking Bakugou asked, "Is your dad Human?"

Kirishima nodded. "Yeah." He made an uncertain expression before continuing. "So I'm kind of human, too."

Bakugou rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

At this Kirishima vigorously shook his head. "I wasn't raised by Humans." He leaned in closer to Bakugou, his voice a little quieter. "You know, my kind are pretty good at making friends with all kinds from everywhere in the Universe. But we don't stick close for very long. We're supposed to meet others the same as us, and eventually make our own family on our own ship. You'd think we'd mix a lot more with various types, but it's pretty rare. It's like a programmed defense. But my Mom, she stayed on Earth a really long time. And we weren't exactly welcomed back."

Bakugou didn't know how to proceed. He remembered Kirishima's awkward response when he'd brashly accused him of running away. Their conversation were different now. He didn't feel equipped.

He gently pushed Kirishima back, and tried to refocus the topic. "Who gave you the ship?"

Kirishima took the hint. "My mentor! I traveled with mom a long time, but I eventually wanted my own ship. Mom dropped me off at a good asteroid stop with a friend of hers. He let me work with him at his garage. He's a really great guy, and _big_." He spoke excitedly, but the enthusiasm wasn't genuine.

The conversation stalled then, neither willing to push it forward. Bakugou figured he made Kirishima feel awkward. He groaned at his own ineptitud.

He glanced over at him. It was stupid. It wasn't worth fretting over. So he made an attempt. "My name's Japanese, too. Katsuki Bakugou." It felt strange in his mouth. No one called him _Katsuki_ anymore.

But it had a good effect, Kirishima seemed happy.

"We both names that remind us of home."

Right, he told him he was Earthian.

"I'm from Mars. Never been to Earth."

"Oh."

It wasn't all that funny, but Bakugou couldn't help laughing. It was a short laugh. Hardly more than a gruff chuckle. But it quickly turned big and loud at Kirishima's incredulous expression.

They were both laughing then, though Bakugou didn't know why. It felt stupid and out of place, but good.

The moles made confused squeaks just a few feet away, distressed and still confused. It brought Bakugou back, and the laughter left him.

In a quieter voice than he expected, Bakugou told Kirishima what he'd been worried about back when he first found the moles.

"The League expects them to be dead by the time they arrive. But they won't be."

"That's definitely some kind of treaty violation."

"No shit. It was supposed to be a secret."

"Don't do it."

"They won't make it easy. They could just kill them onboard anyway." _And maybe us_, he thought to himself.

Kirishima closed his eyes a moment. He hummed as he thought.

"How did the moles get here?"

—

They found the ship after some intense questioning. It had been hidden further underground, that second tunnel entrance blocked from view by the moles themselves when Bakugou found them. The ship could be flown through the other end of the tunnel out the face of a cliff.

The mole ship was a little more than twice the size Kirishima's old one. It was a generic model, to help the owners blend, but customized to process a special fuel source, a highly potent type, xanyr. What made xanyr so valuable was its immense power potential in a dense little package. A small amount could fuel a reasonably sized fleet a long distance. The moles had probably meant to use some of the xanyr for funds, but mostly to fuel their ships. Bakugou guessed the original scout who found the site wasn't a mole and therefore failed to warn the leaders. Xanyr was rare enough that few had done extensive studies on its chemical structure. Or if they had, they were careful to keep them unknown.

He asked Kirishima why the moles hadn't tried to escape on the ship.

"They couldn't remember the passcode." Of course.

Well they remembered now. And they didn't want to be left behind.

There were still a few hours until the rescue ship would arrive. The flying conditions weren't the best, but it was better to get as much possible distance between them and the League. They had to deliver their captives quickly then go somewhere, anywhere. It just had to be far.

There was a lot figure out before the League made sense of Bakugou's desertion. Where and how to deliver the moles. How to restock supplies. How to obtain a new bio-suit now that Kirishima disposed of it overground. There wasn't a plan.

Kirishima waved it all away. "I've got some idea where we can find help. And we've got plenty of xanyr to trade."

He chose to trust him on that.

Bakugou sat in the captain's seat, and looked up at Kirishima who was leaning over him looking at the navigation screen.

"Sit down already," he shoved him away. "You'll have plenty of chances to annoy me later."

Kirishima listened and sat in the chair next to him. He was practically bouncing with anticipation.

And off they went.


End file.
